


Intervention

by Cards_Slash



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Consensual Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so Malik is a supervisor, Altair is this incredibly hot temp and Robert is Malik's gross sorta-boss that shows up and causes problems.  Altair starts a pretend relationship with Malik to drive Robert away which both succeeds and fails in equal measures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> for Temporizame on tumblr who requested this on my [tumblr](http://bewareofchris.tumblr.com/).

Up to that moment, Altair’s presence in the office had been at neutral addition. Malik did not find his work to be exemplary but it was passable and he had no complaints about the temp except the ongoing-conversation about how attractive and eligible Altair was. Maria who, under any other circumstances, was a consummate professional had even joined in the conversation by adding speculation about Altair’s sexual orientation. The conversations inevitably met a quick death any time he entered the room where they were taking place so he only caught unfinished bits-and-little-pieces of them. Even that, really, would have been acceptable considering the temporary nature of Altair’s employment. 

Then there was Robert De Sable, the regional manager who showed up unannounced in the office with his constant-leer shifting straight past the many eligible and potentially interested sources of amusement to Malik. Oh-and-the hours that Malik had wasted turning Robert down amounted to veritable decades of his life (so it felt like) of keeping his body out of reach and his tone formal and disinterested. 

“Malik,” Robert said to him with all the warm-lust of a man who simply could not grasp that he was not wanted and his sexual harassment was not endearing. (The one time Malik had considered reporting Robert had come to an abrupt halt when he realized the man was married, well-liked and all around greatly preferred to Malik who was single, acidic and generally avoided.) Robert shook his hand but he leered at his body while he did it with two raised eyebrows and a soft sound of appreciation. “It is _good_ to see you.”

Malik could think of nothing to say to that so he only smiled pulled his hand away from Robert’s slimy-grasp. “Can I help you?”

“No, no, I’m just here for a routine visit. You know how the men in charge like to know the little people are happy. They’ll be some interviews, I’ll be looking over your operations and making sure everything is on par with what we expect. You know, the usual.” Then he moved his body a half-a-step closer to him and cleared his throat like they were such-conspirators. “We should get a drink tonight, maybe. You can fill me in on what’s been happening around the office here. It’ll be less formal, maybe take some of the tension out of the whole process.”

Malik wanted nothing so badly as he wanted to stab the man in the eye. He was stuck in a cycle of imagining how Robert would look with the eraser end of a number-two-pencil sticking out of his eye socket when an arm went around his shoulder and pulled him indecently close to the body next to him. Malik turned toward the unwanted presence interrupting his attempts to make a decent comeback and found himself being tongue-kissed by Altair-the-attractive-temp in the middle of the fucking office. It was a brief-lewd kiss like the arm around his shoulders that pulled him in like a fucking claim on his body before he was released abruptly. 

“Looks like you’re going to be too busy to go to lunch with me,” Altair said like they had ever talked-about-anything but the acceptable job that Altair did. “Want me to bring you something back?”

“Yeah,” Malik said and then, “sorry about missing our lunch date—Robert needs me to show him something.” When he looked over at Robert there was a confused-hurt-angry-aroused look on his face. “Robert this is Altair, one of our current temps.”

“That’s alright. You missed lunch so you’ll have to take me out to dinner instead,” Altair said. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. De Sable.” He stuck his hand out and Robert looked at him as if he’d rather be stripped naked and thrown into a briar patch than shake his hand but he managed to do it anyway. 

“You as well,” Robert said. 

Altair walked away with a pleased whistle, called to Maria who had been standing there with wide-open eyes and a pale-white shock on her cheeks ever since Altair had put his arm around Malik’s shoulders. She followed after him with a noise that could only be described as a squeak and the quick clip-clop of her heels.

“He seems _eager_ ,” Robert said. 

Oh-and-Malik had to count to a thousand before he could even fake a smile.

\--

Maria slapped him as soon as they had made it clear of the front of the office building. She didn’t have her purse on hand (a plus for him as far as Altair was concerned) but the rapid fire smacks of her hands against his arm was painful enough to make her point. “What in the hell were you thinking?” she demanded. Even though they were halfway through the parking lot when she said it, she still turned around to look over her shoulder at where the building stood as if Creeper De Sable or Malik would hear her.

“Intervening?” Altair said. 

“If Malik doesn’t castrate you the first time he manages to corner you in a blind spot, I’ll give up wine for the rest of my life.” 

Altair snorted at that notion. An act of God itself could not even compel Maria to give up wine. But more to the point, Malik wasn’t going to castrate him (maybe yell at him, perhaps give him some lecture about appropriate workplace conduct) because he had followed right along with the out that Altair gave him. “What does he eat anyway? I’m supposed to bring him food but I’m not sure I can find any newborns over a bed iron nails on such short notice.” 

Maria glared at him when they reached the crosswalk to the little diner they usually went to. The sandwiches were really good at they got an office discount for lunch. “For the obvious reasons, I’m going to pretend that you did not just say that. Just tell them you’re getting lunch for Malik and they’ll pack the usual for him. Since I know Robert better than you do, maybe we should have a little discussion about the obvious things you should know about Malik before we get back to the office.” 

“I know some things,” Altair said, “he is allergic to good humor and fun. He enjoys working and enslaving temps and interns. I assume that he returns to some kind of cave-like structure where he sleeps on the bones of his defeated enemies and dreams about new ways to drive starry-eyed college graduates into deep depression. Oh—and I’m pretty sure he likes chocolate covered dates.” He felt pretty damn clever but Maria was just standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and her head slowly shaking at his stupidity.

\--

Malik’s lunch was delivered by Maria somewhere between Robert regaling him stories of his excellence and his wife’s two annoying dogs and the moment when Robert dropped almost all of his pretenses of real conversation. 

It was just after an indulgent wheezing laugh about his wife’s second dog and it’s penchant for toilet paper with Robert’s impressively tall body relaxing back into the chair that was much too small for him. He said, “so, how long have you been dating the temp?”

(If he looked at his watch he could probably narrow it down to the second. Fifty six minutes and twenty-three seconds, for instance.) “It’s new,” he said. It wasn’t the most convincing lie he’d ever told in his life going by the noncommittal response he got from Robert. “I don’t like to talk about my personal life at work.” 

“Oh I know,” Robert said. “But you’ve always been so indulgent listening to me talk about mine. I suppose that we should get on with the work that we’ve got to do, but I’m telling you that I’m beat. It was a long flight to get here and I think I’m going to go make myself at home in my hotel room and be back tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Malik said. 

“If your new boyfriend doesn’t keep you out all night, you can stop by and we’ll catch up outside of work.” Robert scribbled his hotel-room-number on a slip of paper and handed it to him with a wink. 

Malik accepted the paper and could not bring himself to thank the man for his completely unwanted advances. So he just attempted a smile and put the paper down on his desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. And it did nothing at all to deter Robert’s determined swagger as he left the room. There was a blessed moment of perfect silence when the door to his office closed and Robert’s domineering presence was gone. Malik sagged in his seat and pulled the box of food over toward him, popped it open and didn’t even know why he expected anything but his usual sandwich. 

He wasn’t expecting the message scrawled into the top of the box: ‘you looked like you needed rescuing. And I didn’t mind taking one of the team.’

“Fuck,” he said. 

\--

It wasn’t that Altair was trying to run for it but that he had no reason to think that the charade he started (innocently, of course) just before lunch would have any need to carry on to closing time. So he was three-quarters the way to his pathetic little car when Malik found him. 

“I’m not sure what’s more offensive, the fact that you felt like I couldn’t handle myself or the assumption that kissing me was such an undesirable task you consider it a sacrifice for the greater good.” It was after-hours now, and while Malik still looked exactly like his boss (tie, white shirt, black suit jacket all in place) he was not, in fact, his boss anymore. 

Altair sighed, shifted the messenger bag across his chest and turned around to look at Malik. “I would respond with some sort of come-on about how despite the fact that you’re attractive, your personality is instant turn off but I can’t shake the feeling that if someone else throws unwanted advances toward you you’ll start throwing punches back.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and waited for Malik to make denials (the reaction he expected) or to acknowledge the obvious (the logical reaction). 

“As you’ve already stuck your tongue in my mouth, I’d say we’re past that now.” Malik took a step closer when a few of the ladies from the office were close enough to hear the sound of their chatter. The conspicuous closeness did nothing to warm the chilly indifference Malik had for him. (Better indifference than something worse, perhaps.) “However,” Malik said, “you were not entirely wrong in your interpretation of the situation.”

“I very rarely am wrong,” Altair said. He shuffled a few steps to the side so he could lean against his pathetic little car and Malik followed until he was an arm’s length away. Close enough to be friendly and intent but far enough away to be decent. “You don’t seem like the type to put up with that kind of harassment.”

“Unfortunately, I have disadvantages.”

“I can’t imagine,” Altair said. 

Malik’s level glare accused him for being an ignorant bastard. They both knew that Malik was dark-skinned, homosexual and distinctly unlikeable. The fact that he had the position that he currently had was a miracle enough without complicating the situation by attempting to level harassment charges against a well-liked superior. “I have been attempting to convince Robert I’m not interested for three years,” Malik said. 

“With such great success.” Altair straightened up and dug down into his bag for his keys. “Well, I guess you’re taking me out to dinner tonight then. Tomorrow I’ll be your loving and possessive boyfriend.”

“Unfortunately.” Malik agreed. “Give me your number, I’ll call you when I’m on my way to pick you up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dutifully put the digits in his contacts. 

\--

Malik wore jeans and a T-shirt with the words all faded out because he spent most of his day stuck in clothes that were restrictive and sometimes dry-clean-only and there was no reason to subject himself to the same nonsense during a ‘date’. He took a shower, dried his hair and left it standing up, got dressed and debated his options for dinner. It was just after seven before he called Altair and almost seven thirty before he finally found the ugly apartments that Altair lived in. The man himself was standing outside looking impossibly tall in well-fitting jeans and a white shirt that hugged itself across his broad (and apparently muscled) chest in a way that was indecent at-best. 

“I honestly expected you to show up in a suit,” Altair said when he got in the car. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” They made the drive to a non-descript bar-and-grill in silence. The dinner crowd was thinning out (it was only Tuesday, after all) and the hostess helpfully installed them in a tall booth against the back wall. 

“So, I’ll ask a question and you ask a question,” Altair said. He looked at the menu briefly and dropped it back to the table while Malik ignored him and took his time finding something worth eating. The waitress returned to offer them drinks and ask if they were ready to order. Altair had the special (because it was special, presumably) and Malik ordered a cheeseburger because they were usually reliably decent.

“Do you have any roommates?” Malik asked.

“No,” Altair said, “I had a cat but he ran off a few months ago. No brothers, sisters or parents either. Your family?”

“Well, homosexuality is an abomination so my parents mercifully pretend I don’t exist. My brother lives with them in Syria right now. And before you inevitably ask, I was born here and I am a citizen.” The waitress returned with his water and Altair’s soda. Malik thanked her and Altair drank half of his drink without breathing. “How long have we been dating?”

“I just got hired five weeks ago, so maybe four? I’m sure Maria can convince the rumor mill that the reason nobody knows is because you ‘don’t discuss your personal life at work’ and I was playing along for you. That’s long enough that we’re having sex but don’t know everything about one another yet.” Altair finished his soda off, pulled the straw out of the glass and pushed it toward the edge so it could be picked up. “Since everyone is going to ask tomorrow, how good at sex are you? Do you have any memorable marks on your body and are you circumcised?”

“That’s three questions. I’m not sure bragging about my prowess in the bedroom will convince Robert to leave me the fuck alone, but I’m good. I a cluster of moles on my chest under my left nipple that someone told me looks like a constellation. Orion I think they said? I don’t know. And no. Same questions for you.”

“I’m fantastic, flexible, energetic and eager. I have a two scars that you’d probably notice right away. One of them is here,” he pointed at his right side and drew a slash down from below his arm toward his belly. “And the other is on the inside of my left thigh. I get freckles sometimes in the summer but that’s not relevant right now. And yes I am.” He shifted in his seat, sat back against the booth while he considered the next question he wanted to ask and Malik was left staring somewhere in middle distance as his body unhelpfully supplied a litter of images of what Altair must look like naked. “Favorite T-shirt?” Altair asked.

“How is that important in any way?” Malik asked, “no don’t answer that. I don’t even want to know the logic. It’s an old gray shirt that has a bird on it. Is this what you usually wear?” He motioned his hand at the whole of Altair’s body and it’s unhelpful attractiveness.

“The pants are a little tighter than my average pair,” Altair said. Then like he realized how dirty it might sound he blushed pink and said, “I didn’t mean that in a boner way either. Did you ask me out or did I have to seduce you while you resisted my advances?”

“I would not have asked an employee out,” Malik said, “so clearly you were persistent and I had a momentary lapse in judgment.” The waitress stopped by to give Altair a new drink and assure them that their orders would be out in a moment. She smiled indulgently at them (because she wanted a tip) and Altair smiled charmingly back at her. “Are you gay?” Malik asked.

“Bi,” Altair said, “well, maybe pan. Did we have sex on our first date?”

“Just from watching you work I’m sure we had sex instead of a first date,” Malik said. And it was the filthiest thing he had said to anyone that worked with him _ever_. He wasn’t embarrassed (exactly) by the words but something heated and dangerous made the skin of his neck grow hot nonetheless. 

Altair looked impressed with his fictional conquest. “That must have been a messy morning-after.”

Malik shrugged, “only if we had to work. I usually offer breakfast before I evict people I’ve had sex with. So you’d have a least a little time to convince me that you weren’t a total waste of my time. It’s not inconceivable that I would have decided to give you a chance given that you’re attractive and intelligent. I believe that you would have had a compelling argument.”

“I work well under pressure. So we’ve settled that I’d be able to convince you to give me a chance under the proviso that I not kiss and tell. I was clearly interested in you because you were an interesting challenge with a handsome face.”

“At this point, I’m not sure we need anything further. Even if we had limited in common, we’d still be caught up in exploring our sexual compatibility at this point. Have we been on many dates?”

“In four weeks?” Altair said, “I would hope that we’ve been on at least a few. I don’t enjoy movie theaters so that’s out. I get the feeling you would enjoy something sophisticated so art museum?”

“I do enjoy the art museum,” Malik said. Their food came and the conversation shifted into silence as they ate and discussed the flavor of their choices. The small talk meandered to a dead end until they were nearly finished with the food. “I also enjoy sports. I’ve been known to go to a local baseball game. I play football on the weekends with some friends. I run in the morning before work.”

Altair smiled like he hadn’t expected that. “I draw,” he offered like he thought it was as unexpected as Malik’s appreciation for dirty sports. “Should I play this by ear tomorrow? How possessive do you want me to be?”

“Minimally,” Malik said. This whole thing was going to ruin his reputation, there was no reason to trash it any more than necessary. 

\--

Morning dawned to sex-sweat-dreams of Malik’s naked brown skin and the encourage sounds he must make, the feeling of his confident hands tangled in Altair’s hair and the phantom taste of his skin. “Oh shit,” Altair mumbled as he rolled onto his belly and humped his hand like a shameless teenager he no longer was.

At the office, there was a stifling air of too-many eyes on his back and whispers chasing after his footsteps as he went to his desk. There was a note there that he was needed in Malik’s office at ten-fifteen that looked nothing at all like Malik’s handwriting. (Robert’s perhaps.) He hung it on his computer screen and tucked his bag away under his desk as he settled in to get started for the day. 

Maria stopped by his desk with a package of fresh copier paper tucked in the crooked of her elbow. “So, how was your date?”

“Fantastic,” Altair said.

Oh-she-was-too smart and too shrewd to play along for such little reward. She took a step closer and leaned against the edge of his desk, her face turned toward him with her chin nearly touching her shoulder as she gave him a look that clearly betrayed her feelings of his stupidity. “We are dying to know how long you’ve been dating and how you managed it,” she said.

“A few weeks, he didn’t want to say anything at work. I was willing to play along until Creeper De Sable showed up. And—I’m persistent.” Altair looked across the room at the many-many people that were trying to overhear his every word. They had the look like they’d abandon their posts to talk to him if not for how they were meant to be working. “I need to get started,” he said.

Maria rolled her eyes but left. The day was boring for a matter of hours—monotonous as it had been yesterday and the day before. At ten he saved what he’d been working on and picked up the slip of paper that requested his presence, held it between his fingers and straightened his shirt and tie before he headed for Malik’s office at the back of the room. Robert was laughing inside, sitting in Malik’s chair with a spread of papers covering the desk and falling onto the floor. When Altair opened the door, Malik looked back at him with no sense of familiarity or affection. “I was supposed to be here?” he said. He held up the slip of paper.

“I don’t think you were,” Robert said.

“I have a job for you,” Malik said. He made it sound so convincing, even as he got up and walked over toward him with a look on his face like he’d rather be disemboweled with a spoon than spend another moment with Robert. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Robert. I’m just going to go get him started.” And Malik touched his arm with an easy hand and guided him back through the door. 

“This is your hand-writing?” Altair asked and showed it to him.

“No, that’s Maria,” Malik said. “She meddles, this cannot be a surprise to you.” He was whispering low while half of the staff watched while trying to be sneaky about it and the other half watched with open interest. Malik led him down the hallway that fed into the records room with the old copiers that barely worked and the poor ventilation that made being stuck searching for a file from last year akin to being exiled to hell. 

“You do realize this looks like we’re just here for sex,” Altair said. He checked between the shelves for any poor person that might have actually been in the room for its intended purpose and found nobody. The sound of the door locking behind his back just proved his point. “Now I’m starting to think we’re here to have sex.”

“I would not have sex at work,” Malik said. “But assuming dealing with Robert’s continued advances all morning, you would be feeling possessive and I would be feeling receptive.” Malik was pulling his tie loose and looking over at the door and the narrow window that was set high to be sure there was nobody spying. “So what would you do?”

Altair considered it, stepped closer to Malik and ignored how his body was one-hundred-percent on board with _closer_. He shoved Malik’s suit jacket half off his shoulders and liked the way it made his shoulders more prominent and kept his arms back. “I’m just assuming you want me to show you what I’d do.”

“That’s what I was going for, yes. Being mauled by a jealous boyfriend is a hard sell without physical evidence,” he said. “Not touching below the navel.”

Altair kissed him and Malik allowed it, shifted on his feet and let his arms hang at his sides. His face was hot against Altair’s palms and his mouth tasted like sweet-sugar-and-cream coffee with something spicy layered just under it. (Cinnamon, perhaps.) It was a kiss without passion but it wasn’t necessarily bad, Malik kissed him back after a pause and it was easier to imagine they were something _real_ and not a fabrication to ward off an unwanted pest. Altair wrinkled Malik’s shirt with his hands and pulled at the perfectly flat hair at the back of his head. They kissed until their mouths were red and he was satisfied that Malik looked pretty-and-taken. 

But it wasn’t what he’d do, not really, if Robert were a threat and Malik was really his. So he undid the first two buttons of Malik’s shirt; he expected resistance not the easy way Malik tipped his head up and to the side to bare his throat. Oh-and-it sent an electric shock through his body that made his fingers tighten convulsively and his hips rock forward. “How dark?” Altair murmured because his voice felt thick and unsafe.

“I have dark skin,” Malik said. He stepped back so his shoulders were against the wall and reached to pull Altair down toward his neck because Altair’s-brain-had-shut down all of a sudden. Malik’s skin was heated under his mouth and his chest was solid when Altair put his hands on him. The hand at the back of his head was sweet-but-firm as it stroked through his hair and Altair bit into the delicate skin of Malik’s throat and sucked on it. The surprised grunt-sigh that came from Malik was enough to drive a sane man to crazy thoughts but they were both _professionals_.

Malik pushed him back after a moment, breath gone all uneven and face flushed. The mark on his neck was unmistakable—wet and red and set just high enough it would be visible underneath his collar. Altair smiled at his handiwork and fixed Malik’s shirt and tie so they were crooked. 

“I do actually have a job for you,” Malik said when his breath evened out.

Of course he did.

\--

Robert had not been in the office when Malik made it back and it was just as well because he needed the solitude to re-evaluate his life and the choices he seemed to be making in the past day. Allow Altair so close to him had to have been the stupidest (best) decision that he’d ever made because his body was set on a low-burn of something fierce and needy and his neck burned where his mouth had been. 

It was Maria that found him first, and she took a moment to just stare openly with her mouth half open and a stack of papers that he most likely needed to review in her arms. “Wow,” she said. 

“Don’t,” he said.

“I don’t think I have to, it kind of speaks for itself. Robert is interrogating your staff under the pretense of making sure ‘everyone is happy’ and ‘things are running according to company standards’.” She handed him a stack of blank paper and made it look important and official before she turned and left.

Malik took a breath and ran a hand through his hair to smooth down where Altair had ruffled it up and went to look for the jackass sent to terrorize his office. Robert was lounging at someone’s desk talking to them about office parties and that one time he got drunk and danced with the CEO’s wife. “She was a dear though, she had a good laugh,” Robert said. He was still smiling when he looked up at Malik (as he dragged his eyes up Malik’s body like he had every right to do so). The smile sputtered out when Robert saw the mark on his neck that hadn’t been there before. 

“I didn’t realize we were finished reviewing,” Malik said. “I could clean up if you were done but I didn’t want to move things until I asked because I know how particular you are about having things the way you want them.” Like he only just realized it, he straightened his collar and tie while Tish (the lady Robert was harassing) and Robert gaped openly at him. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Robert said. He lifted himself out of the seat and headed back toward the office without his customary niceties. 

\--

By the end of the day, Altair had been given every possible congratulations about his unthinkable conquest of the most handsome man nobody wanted to sleep with. He tolerated a few friendly ribs by a couple of the male associations about how he must have the biggest balls in the world and returned a few shy grins from people who didn’t want to be involved.

Robert was in the parking lot, smoking out by the edge of the property, just a few feet from Altair’s pathetic car. He was taller than Altair, with broader shoulders and a heavier build that made him look menacing and out of place in a fine-tailored suit. If someone had told Altair that Robert worked the MMA circuit in his free time it might not have been a surprise to him. (Not that he was afraid of the man, because he wasn’t.) “Altair, right?”

Altair put his hands in his pockets and did his best to look unassuming and surprised by this confrontation. He nodded his head politely. “Yes.”

“Just a little unsolicited friendly advice, if you ever want to be anything but a temp, you should learn to follow company rules. It’s generally frowned upon for supervisors to be romantically or sexually involved with their subordinates—now I’m sure you have student loans that you hope to pay off some day, right? I’m just guessing this by the state of your car and that embarrassing ‘suit’ you’re wearing.” The bastard even did air quotes as he said the word ‘suit’ like it was that offensive. “It’d be a shame if you were let go from this job for misconduct. Things like that have a tendency to spread fast and far.”

Any-good-boy would have ducked their head, agreed to behave and left with the chastisement they received. Maybe someone else would have gone home and weighed their future against the momentary satisfaction of finding someone they enjoyed spending time with. Threats worked on people like that, the ones that thought they had something to lose that was worth more than what they had to give up. 

Altair just nodded, not even managing the charade of thinking about the words. He took a step closer to Robert and enjoyed the way he straightened up to show off his height and his physique. It was an impressive sight the way a peacock spread its tail feathers was. “That’s true,” he said, “so fire me. Tell everyone I was fucking my boss against policy. Ruin my career before it even gets started, watch my student loans send me spiraling into bankruptcy and me living in some squalid little apartment with roaches crawling in my bed while I flip burgers for the rest of my life. Take the greatest pleasure in my financial ruin—” Altair was close enough now he could see the flinch in Robert’s throat at the words, at how unimpressive and ultimately feeble his threats had turned out to be. “But, he still won’t want you.” Altair stepped back and smiled his best customer-service smile. “Have a good night, Mr. De Sable.”

For an added punch to the gut, he pulled his phone out and found Malik’s number. It rang-and-rang until he heard an echo of it across the parking lot and Robert-and-he were looking as Malik answered the phone. 

“I’m thinking Italian tonight,” Altair said, “I’ll get some take out from that pizza place with the good pasta and meet you at your place in an hour?”

Across the parking lot, Malik was turning in to the phone with something that looked like a smile (not a sneer) as he said, “is he standing right next to you right now?”

“Of course I’ll get extra breadsticks but you’re going to have to help me work off the calories.” He opened his car door with a whine like something dying and dropped inside. Robert was glaring at him through the window when he slammed the door.

“You do realize you are my pretend boyfriend, don’t you?” Malik said. “Did he threaten you?”

“Yes,” Altair said.

“I’m sorry,” Malik said. It sounded like he was sitting in his car with the engine off, all soft-sincere and ultimately useless. “He should be gone by the end of the week though.”

Altair turned his car on. “Give me your address, though. I am really bringing Italian.”

\--

Malik’s apartment was spotless by virtue of rarely being occupied. He changed out of his work clothes into his casual clothes (aforementioned favorite shirt and jeans). There was no reason to be nervous but he found himself straightening his pile of mail and magazines on the center table in the living room nonetheless. 

Altair showed up with a pizza, breadsticks and beer. “I lied about the pasta. And the pizza is subpar too.” He followed Malik to the dining room table and set everything there before he pulled his bag off and hung it on the back of a chair. “Explain to me how creeper De Sable is still employed? He is clearly a creep.”

“Well, as far as I know, he only harasses me. I think he actually hired me for that exact reason, it’s just gotten a lot less subtle in the past year or so.” Malik opened the pizza box to let the steam out and offered Altair one of the plates he’d brought from the kitchen. 

“You should get a different job,” Altair said. “I’m sure you’re more than qualified to do anything, and more than likely you’ll find a job where no giant asshole stares openly at your body while fantasizing about your dick.” He tugged his tie off and stuffed it into his bag, pulled the first few buttons of his shirt undone and then grabbed a slice of pizza and put it on his plate. 

“Robert is my direct superior, I’m not sure he’d give me a glowing recommendation all things considered. I’ve thought about moving on but the twice yearly visits from Robert haven’t seemed like enough motivation to go.” He pulled out a seat and sat down while Altair stood and angrily chewed his pizza. 

“Can I borrow one of your shirts,” Altair asked. 

“Yeah,” Malik said, “sit down and eat first.”

They made their way, by degrees, from the dining room table to the couch in front of the TV. There was a basketball game on, Altair picked a side and Malik picked the opposite and they rooted for their teams as they drank and enjoyed the peaceful comfort of company. Altair took his button-down shirt off at some point and was left wearing only the sleeveless undershirt that showed the compact muscles of his shoulders and arms. 

“Are you okay to drive?” Malik asked when the game was over and sleep was inevitable. “You can crash on the couch if you want. Since we’re working the walk of shame angle tomorrow anyway.”

“Sounds good,” Altair said. He stretched out with the little throw that was always folded over the end of the couch pulled up over his body and his head cushioned on one of the decorative pillows.

\--

They walked into work together, Altair in Malik’s shirt and Malik with a day-old hickey like a black hole that drew everyone’s attention in. Robert wasn’t in the office yet but there was no doubt that he’d find out about the spectacle when he did show up. 

Maria stopped by before lunch to slap him. “You are not actually helping this situation, you know. This is going to go down in flames and you’ll both be out of a job. Don’t tell anyone I didn’t warn you.”

Robert came after lunch just as everyone was starting to relax. He walked straight through their little desk cubicles and opened Malik’s office door with a grand sweep of motion and noise. Altair looked over his shoulder but tried not to stare obviously at what was happening inside. It was twenty-thirty-fifty minutes before the door opened again and Malik came out looking angrier than he had ever looked before. He went right, toward the break room while Robert sat in the office looking over the papers with a purely professional air.

Altair went after Malik and found him throwing the metal coffee pot into the little sink with more violence than was necessary. “There’s no coffee,” Malik snapped at him.

“There never will be if you break that pot,” Altair said. He watched Malik a moment as he twisted the water like he meant to strangle it and slap the coffee pot around with remorseless violence. “You can break up with me if you need to,” Altair said quietly.

“Fuck him,” Malik said. Altair smiled and Malik smiled back at him and they stood there enjoying their own victorious defiance. “I’m going back, could you bring me a cup of coffee when it’s ready?”

“Cream and sugar?” Altair asked.

“Yeah,” Malik said, “thanks.” Then he straightened his clothes and walked back out of the break room toward his office. 

Altair stood in front of the coffee machine watching the slow drizzle of coffee until it came to a stop. Maria showed up to get a cup and helped him figure out the cream-to-sugar ratio before he took it to Malik. Robert glared daggers at him as Malik made sure to touch his hand when he took the coffee cup and smiled at him with dazzling adoration. 

\--

“You could do better,” Robert said after-hours when the lights behind them had been blurred to a dull gray. The cleaning crew had come through and done their vacuuming and dusting. Still Robert was sitting and pouring over the reports, acting like he was expecting to find something (or that he even cared, really. It wasn’t very often that Malik thought about giving in and blowing Robert once except when he was stuck here like punishment for hours waiting for Robert to be satisfied). 

Malik was falling asleep in his chair. “With what?” he said.

When Robert laughed it wasn’t nearly the abrasive-sort of laughter Malik usually associated with him. He shook himself awake enough to look at Robert, the man was leaning back into the chair and looking at him fondly. “Your boyfriend,” Robert said. “He seems brutish for your tastes. It is your decision, of course, but I know what it’s like to settle for someone that doesn’t challenge you. It’s a long life of regret.”

“Thank you for that unsolicited and unnecessary advice. Did you have something relevant to say about the review that we’ve been doing for the past eight hours?” Malik straightened in his seat and stretched her arms over his head. His back popped before he resettled and tried to concentrate on the notes he’d taken. 

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Robert said, “we’ll leave this stuff out so we can finish it up tomorrow.” 

They made their way to the exit, Robert waited for him outside the door while Malik locked up his office and grabbed his abandoned suit jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Malik said when he walked past Robert. 

Robert caught him by the elbow and pulled him back against his body and leaned down to kiss him. Malik shoved him back harder than he intended and ended up throwing them both to the ground. Robert cursed, Malik rolled over so his knees were under him and Robert was sprawled out on his back rubbing the back of his head. 

“Why did you do that?” Robert demanded.

“Why did _I_?” Malik repeated. “What the fuck do you need, some sort of written rejection letter before you understand that I’m not interested in you?” He got to his feet and rubbed his elbow where blood was spotting through his shirt. “I don’t want you. I’m not going to change my mind. Stop.”

Robert was angry-as-hell when he got up to his feet and the sheer physical presence of his full height was enough to make Malik’s body tighten in reactive defense. Robert’s neck was blood-red and his massive hands were in broad fists. “You think that little boy is better?”

Malik threw his hands up and turned to walk away from Robert. There was no point in talking to him. 

“You’ll regret this!” Robert shouted at his back. “You walk away from me and you’ll regret it.” 

\--

It was after-ten when Altair opened the door to find Malik standing there. He was still wearing his office clothes, carrying a bottle of something that looked expensive and strong with one of his shirt sleeves ripped away from his arm and blood caught on his skin. Altair opened the door and motioned Malik in. 

“How much of that have you drank?”

“Not much,” Malik said. He sloshed the bottle toward him—it was a third empty—and stumbled toward the second-hand couch that he found on the side of the road a few months ago. “Don’t worry I wasn’t driving, I’ve been sitting in your parking lot trying to decide if I could crash at your house since you’re my fake boyfriend.” He turned around and threw himself back onto the couch heedless of the pizza box balanced on the end and the many pokey springs that stabbed anyone that sat on it. “And you know, imagining our fake sex life and how great a blow job would be right now.”

“Maybe when you’re sober,” Altair said. “Should I try waking you up for work tomorrow?” But Malik was already half asleep and snuggling his bottle like a teddy bear. “I guess we’ll play it by ear.” He waited a moment before he pried the bottle out of Malik’s grip and took it to the kitchen to hide it with the empty canisters on top of his fridge. He found a blanket in the closet to cover Malik with and left him a bottle of water and a few Tylenol pills. 

Sleeping was only made problematic by the obvious fact that something-had-happened that upset Malik and Altair was powerless to do anything about it. But sleep came and he woke up to find Malik cleaning his arm in the bathroom with a grimace at the large scrape and the bits of gravel he was trying to scrub out with a bit of wet toilet paper. 

“I have towels,” Altair said. He pulled one off the shelf over the toilet and handed it to Malik. The man took it and tried to look thankful but the hangover that was stuck between his eyes made his attempts look mostly like painful constipation. “Need help?”

“No, I got it,” Malik said. “Thank you though.” He wet the end of the towel and put soap on it before he started scrubbing his arm. The forming scabs peeled away with the bits of things caught in the skin and fresh blood oozed out in a slow watery crawl. 

“What happened?” Altair asked. 

“Robert tried to kiss me, I knocked him over and he dragged me down,” Malik said. He stopped scrubbing to take stock of the raw-meat look of his elbow and forearm. He must have been satisfied that it was clean enough because he rinsed it under the water and then held the towel over it to stop the blood. “I’m probably getting fired today so don’t be surprised if you get fired too.”

“This may be the best thing has ever happened to you,” Altair said. 

Malik snorted at the notion. “It couldn’t be the worst.” He moved the towel away and seemed satisfied by what he found. “Can I borrow my shirt back?”

“Yeah,” Altair said. He went to get it and left Malik getting dressed in the living room while he took a shower and jerked off (again) thinking about how Malik’s arms were finely muscled underneath his warm-brown-skin. When he got out of the shower and was sixty percent dressed he found his phone and tried to talk himself out of calling his cousin. “Hey,” he said to Malik, “so my cousin actually has a job opening in his father’s company. It’s probably not as glamorous as the one you’ve got now but nobody is going to sexually assault you.”

The first expression that crossed Malik’s face was synonymous with a ‘fuck you no’ but it slipped away to leave something like relief or resignation. “Why do you care? Four days ago you were probably like everyone else in the office—you thought I was uptight and evil.”

That was undeniably true. “Four days ago I hadn’t been in a fake relationship with you. It’s an amazing transformation that happens when you actually let people get to know you—I think, in some cultures, they call it friendship. Look, if you get fired today, I’ll give you Ezio’s number and if you don’t than you won’t need it.” And before Malik could respond he said, “Maria doesn’t think you’re evil.”

“That is because Maria is actually evil herself,” Malik said. “Do not let the sweet, helpful and innocent routine fool you. I went to college with her and she is made of pure evil.” He pulled his suit jacket on and found his keys on the floor by the couch. “No time like the present.”

\--

Malik walked into the office expecting a spectacle, a dramatic-execution of his professional life carried out by a vengeful bastard with delusions of his own superiority. He did not expect the office to be running as normal, the few looks when Altair came in right at his side or the disinterested dismissal from the majority of the people. Maria was at his side in an instant with a clipboard and a folder and a hassled pinkness to her cheeks.

“What the hell happened?” she asked in a hushed undertone, “suddenly Robert’s friendly inspection has turned into the Spanish Inquisition. He had Debbie crying earlier and I know for a fact Debbie has never done anything in her life to deserve that. Is there something I need to know?”

Altair bristled at his side, puffing up like a cat with its back arched high. Malik put his hand up to ward Altair off and said, “I’ll fix it.” Then he walked down the aisle between the cubicle desks to where his office door was closed, the glass panels did little to hide the way Robert was interrogating Steve like he was trying to find who murdered two year old triplets instead of figuring out if productivity was on par and employees were happy. Malik slapped his hand against the door and shoved the door open hard enough it banged against the wall and rattled the few pictures he had on the wall. 

“Steve, you can go,” Malik said.

Steve was wise enough to run for his life. Robert just stood and looked down at him with both of his thick arms across his chest and his jaw set for a fight.

“I quit,” Malik said. They weren’t even the words that he meant to say but they felt right in his mouth and they felt right echoing in his ears. There was freedom in the words, something light-and-airy that made everything from the past three years seem stupid and frivolous. “I quit,” he repeated. “So you can stop now, you have nothing to prove except that you’re an asshole. And trust me, they all know that.” He walked over to his desk, to where Robert was opening his mouth to object to Malik’s words (perhaps to tell him the company required two weeks’ notice, perhaps to insult him for thinking he had the right to call Robert an ass). Malik didn’t mean to punch him the way he hadn’t meant to quit but it felt just as right anyway. 

The entire office was watching through the glass and they let out a collective gasp when Robert went careening to the side and landed on the floor in a graceless spill of limbs. Malik shook his hand out at his side and turned around, pulled the door open and walked out. There was stunned silence for a moment before Maria started clapping and Altair whistled from somewhere in the back. 

“Finally!” someone shouted.

Malik walked out amid a standing ovation and the feeling of triumph carried him through until he made it home and realized he’d just killed his entire professional career.

\--

Maria stopped at his desk around mid-day after Robert retreated in a rage of wounded pride and hadn’t returned. She was acting-as-supervisor in Malik’s absence (mostly she was packing up his things and spending hours on the phone with the corporate office telling them everything she knew). “So, I think you should take the rest of the day off. And I think you should put some fact into your fictional relationship.”

“I’m not sure right now is the best time for that,” Altair said.

Maria insulted him with her eyes and walked away without bothering to echo it with words. Altair took the half-day off and found himself outside of Malik’s apartment door with no real idea what he meant to do. He knocked after a prolonged moment of indecision and rethought his decision many times before Malik actually opened the door. He was wearing his gray-shirt (again) the one with the letter I behind the swallow-silhouette. (The shirt that was filthy and unfair, really.) 

“If you’re not here for sex, I don’t think I can help you,” Malik said.

Altair grinned as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Malik to pull him close and kiss him. Malik swung the door shut behind him and was stripping Altair’s jacket-and-shirt and bag off his chest with hurried efficiency. “Is your shirt false advertising?” Altair asked. He undid the buttons at his cuffs so that when Malik shoved his shirt off his shoulders it slid down his arms and fell in a pile on the floor behind his feet. Altair licked the taste of Malik off his lips and dropped his hands down to pull at his pants-button-and-zipper because the shirt was deliciously stretched across his shoulders and hugged tight to his upper arms. 

“Not in the mood for a blow job,” Malik said. He pulled Altair’s undershirt up and off, threw it to the side and put his hands all over Altair’s skin. His palms were hot-and-rough, his fingertips were nips-and-pinches against his nipples before he ducked his head and kissed his way from Altair’s throat to his nipple and closed his mouth around it to suck at it. 

“Oh, no?” Altair said. He managed to get Malik’s pants loose and off his hips, rolled the band of his underwear down so he could get his hands on Malik’s ass. He was expecting it to be firm but he wasn’t expecting it to fit so perfectly into his hands or for Malik’s hips to jerk forward against his body when he squeezed his hands around it. “What were you thinking?” At this point his dick was too hard to allow his brain to function properly and he didn’t care what the hell they did as long as there was an orgasm at the end.

Malik was pulling at his belt and button, jerking his pants off his hips without undoing the zipper so the band cut into his skin down to his thighs and then fell in a silky drop to the floor. Altair toed his shoes off to step out of his pants while Malik stared down at his dick with unabashed interest. “You fucking perfect bastard,” he mumbled. His hand was sudden-but-welcome when it wrapped around his dick and gave a half-hearted stroke. “Fuck me?” he said like there was anyone in the world that would honestly say no to that proposition.

“Yeah,” Altair said. He was ridiculously naked with his tie still caught around his throat and his socks on his feet and Malik’s hand on his dick but it didn’t matter _at all_ because Malik let go of his dick and grabbed his tie and pulled him toward the bedroom. His jeans slid off his legs along the way and it only briefly slowed him to a shuffle before he stepped out of them entirely. 

\--

Malik took his shirt off and Altair made a protesting little noise from where he was sitting on his knees on the bed holding a condom and a bottle of lube. “Really?” Malik said.

“It’s a proven fact that clothing is sexy. There’s a whole industry to prove it.” Altair tossed him the lube and opened the condom, too a moment to stare it owlishly before figuring out how it was meant to go and slid it down his dick. “You forgot to mention you were hairy when I asked about your body before,” Altair said. He grabbed Malik by the thigh and pulled him down so his head was off the pillows and his back was flat on the bed. He looked oh-so-proud of himself when he leaned in over Malik’s body.

“I felt it was a given,” Malik said. Altair’s hand was rubbing across the hair on his chest with a devout sort of reverence that was largely absent in this world of ‘man-scaping’ and hairless models. Malik kissed him, pulled him down with one hand and clenched his hand tight around the lube in the other. Altair was hot-as-hell against his body, burning to the touch even in the coolness of his bedroom and it was so-damn-welcome that Malik was wrapping a leg around his body to pull him in tighter. 

It was Altair’s tongue in his mouth, Altair’s hand between their bodies holding their dicks together as Altair rolled his hips in a slow-steady rhythm. It was Altair’s breath against his cheek and the bump of his pointed nose now-and-again. It was his back flexing under Malik’s hands and his hair that ruffled up when he stroked the nape of his neck in encouragement. 

It had been so-fucking-long and so-overdue and Malik was moaning into the kiss as he pushed Altair back far enough to roll over onto his belly. Altair let out a noise like he’d been punched in the gut and accepted the bottle of lube when it was offered to him. He kissed the backs of Malik’s shoulders as he slipped his slick fingers into him, rubbing the lube against and into his hole until he could fuck his fingers in easily. 

Malik was rubbing his sweaty forehead against his forearm with his left hand down between his thighs rubbing his dick until his body was thrumming-like-singing and he was so fucking ready he could have gotten off on nothing but the feeling of Altair leaning across his back. The brief pain of Altair pushing into him was enough to ground him back into the here-and-now but it did nothing to diminish his arousal. Altair’s body heavy against his back pushed him into the mattress in a delicious way that made the head of his dig drag across his worn-in sheets. 

“Good?” Altair asked. 

“Faster,” Malik said. He reached back to pull at Altair’s ass and groaned in encouragement. Altair fucked him until his knees slid down and he was lying flat against the mattress. “Fuck,” Malik said. 

Altair’s hands were making craters in the bed on either side of his chest and his wet-breath was ghosting dirty endearments across the back of his shoulders. They were fucking hard enough now to knock the bed against the wall, and Malik was twisting his fists in his sheets because every-part of his body was pulsing in time with how badly he just wanted to come. Altair let out a pant of effort, lifted himself up and away—“wait,” he said and put his knees on the outsides of Malik’s legs with one hand against the center of his back. His dick slid mostly out as he wiggled himself into a position he liked better. “You have a pillow you don’t really like?” he asked.

“Uh,” Malik rifled through the pillows just above his head to find his least favorite and handed it back to him. “This ends in more fucking though, right?” His words were made tight and wheezy when Altair’s arm went under his hips and pulled him up and back onto the hardness of his dick. The change in the angle made the slide send a sharp-shiver of something nearly-unbearable ricocheting around his gut. Altair pushed the pillow under his hips and lowered him back onto it so his ass was rolled up into the air and his chest was against the bed again. 

Altair fucked into him again, once-twice-shifting around behind him until he thrust forward and it hit oh-so-perfectly and Malik gasped and shoved back against the glorious fullness of his dick so it stayed just-right-there. His head was buzzing and Altair’s smug voice was floating somewhere over his shoulder saying something like, “I like that.” Then he was fucking into him again, alternating his strokes so it was every-two-or-three that he fucked all-the-way in and made Malik’s head spin. 

“Fuck,” Malik said, he shoved himself up on his hands and reached down to grip his dick because he was there-right-there and Altair was kissing the back of his neck now as he fucked into him even after Malik was coming all over his own fist and swearing dirty compliments in Arabic. He was a twitching-shivering-mess with Altair’s arms around him held up against his sure-strong chest as Altair fucked him with deliberate-almost-painful slowness. “What about you?” Malik asked. He licked his lips and tasted the sweat-salt, tipped his head back against Altair’s shoulder so he could see his face. 

Altair chuckled, “I came before you. You missed it because you were too busy wriggling on my dick.” His hands were rubbing up and down Malik’s body, avoiding his dick (for the best) but tracing lines from his chest to his thighs as he continued thrusting into him lazily. 

“You should probably stop doing that,” Malik said but he wasn’t sure he even believed himself. He reached over his head to pull Altair’s face down to kiss him, liked the way he tasted and the way he felt smothering Malik’s body from all angles. 

\--

“So this isn’t breakfast,” Altair said when they were sitting around a table full of Malik’s left over homemade food that looked completely unlike anything Altair had eaten before. (Not that he hadn’t been offered it before because his father’s family liked to bring food that he often did not eat. They worried over his poor Americanized palate and blamed his Grandmother for ruining him while he ignored them mostly.) “But I’d like to submit my argument for why we should date.”

Malik leaned back into his chair and motioned for him to go on much the same as he did at work when someone was boring him with trivial things. “I cannot wait to hear this. Have you been practicing it?”

“We are obviously sexually compatible, which is a big deal, really. We have similar career goals—you are increasingly more ambitious than I am, possibly because I have a very wealthy extended family. But this will work because I won’t challenge you as the clear bread winner and it allows me to pursue my own non-monetary based goals. I’m intelligent, witty and funny—all qualities that you seem to admire. I’m thorough and dedicated.”

Malik nodded, “and modest.”

“I’m very modest.”

Malik’s grin was beautiful as he shook his head. “Why not?” he said.

Altair raised his beer to salute the start of their beautiful relationship and Malik lifted his to clink them together and they drank to their own inevitable happiness.


End file.
